Field Day
by LittleChicago
Summary: A one shot reminder that Harry's life isn't all about getting beat up and losing people. Sometimes, he has fun, too.


Field Day

My hand tightened on the gun's grip. I was aching from holding my position, not drawing attention, willing the world to ignore me. The tree I was standing next to started to sway a bit in a strong breeze, and I swayed with it, just another part of nature. Normally, I could have raised a veil to help me blend in, but that was against the rules of this particular engagement.

My opponent, his own gun held out, was slowly surveying the clearing we both stood near, his eyes sharp. His voice, however, was muffled. "Come on out and surrender, Dresden! We already got everyone else!"

I refused to rise to the bait, and waited, just a little longer.

My opponent finally made a mistake, and put himself right in the line of fire. I pulled the trigger, three times.

Three paintballs exploded against Carlos Ramirez, two on his chest and one right on his trigger hand. "Madre de dios!" He staggered back, cursing and muttering, shanking his hand, then lifted his paintball gun over his head and started walking back towards the picnic area/home base. "Dammit!"

"Better luck next time, Ramirez!"

He looked over his shoulder. "Suck it! Luccio's still out there! One on one, now, Dresden!"

Huh. My girlfriend-slash-boss was now stalking me in a game of paintball. I put my odds of survival at one-in-thirty, maybe one-in-fifty.

I turned around… and took a single hit of yellow paint directly to the face. "Gah!" I said with dignity.

One-in-infinity.

"Gotcha! Good work, Ramirez!"

"Thank you, ma'am."

I lifted my mask to look at the voice. A short, blonde twenty-something was smiling up at me. "And that's game."

I clicked the safety on my paintball gun and sighed. "He was a distraction?"

"Well, you are easily distracted."

I looked her athletic form up and down. Even in coveralls, it was a pleasure. "Touche." She just smiled a little harder. We turned and caught up with Carlos, who was waiting for us. "You're an excellent sacrificial lamb, by the way."

"Hey, when the boss tells you to take one for the team, you do."

"You do," I said. We tromped through a thin copse of trees and emerged at the Warden's Barbeque Field Day camp. There were Wardens – the White Council's army – everywhere, laughing, drinking, eating. You'd almost think they were normal people, rather than wizards.

It had taken me over two years of suggesting before the management types had agreed to this sort-of day-off for the fighting men and women, especially since there was still a war on with the vampires. But my reasoning was sound; your soldiers have to be allowed to step back and remember what they're fighting for, once in a while. "Well, I have to admit, you really couldn't have picked a better day for this, Captain."

"Oh, I left the schedule up to others. But it did work out nicely." The early June sun was shining, there was a nice breeze, the field we were established in was relatively isolated. Some farmer in central Canada had never plowed under his back-forty, or something like that. As a result, there was grass and a good number of trees everywhere, providing a great deal of shade.

"Ah, I see you lost, Dresden."

And there was one big, dark cloud over everything.

"Yes, Morgan, I did." I turned to the tall, solidly built man who loved to watch me squirm. So I didn't. I just looked him in the nose. "She got me."

"Hmph." I saw a ghost of a smile on his mouth, and dearly wanted nothing more than to punch it, very, very hard. Especially since the smug bastard had taken out half my team in one ridiculous kamikaze run. I have my pride.

"Donald," Luccio said gently. "Play nice."

"I did," he said. "And we won."

"You're just mad because I shot you," I said.

"I am not."

"Yes, you are. I got you right in the worst place possible, and you're ticked."

He adjusted his legs, then said, "I took out half your team!"

"And I still shot you. And I apologized for where."

"Well the Captain shot you!"

"Yeah, but she's the Captain. I'd expect that. Instead, you get taken out by someone you've got a hundred years on."

"Dresden, knock it off. Donald," Luccio said sharply, "I will not ask again."

He clamped his mouth shut, even though he looked like he really didn't want to, then mumbled, "He started it."

He sounded so much like a kid who had just been scolded, that I almost laughed. My anger melted away. Mostly.

"Today is supposed to be about relaxing," she continued. "Blowing off some steam, having a bit of fun."

"Then why were we keeping score?"

"Wiener," I said.

"Excuse me?" Morgan said, his head snapping back to me.

I pointed at the row of barbeques. "Wiener. Would you like a wiener? Stick it between some buns?"

Carlos suddenly choked on something and walked away in a coughing fit. Poor guy.

Luccio shoved me away, and I knew it would be my turn to get scolded later, but the look on Morgan's face had been worth it. I got a hamburger (a Whopper it wasn't, but the guys on the grill were still young) and a beer from a cooler. I left my paintball gun with a pile of similar weapons, peeled off my overalls, then sought out a place to sit and enjoy lunch.

I found my apprentice sitting alone under a tree, and joined her. Molly Carpenter was picking at a salad. She wasn't smiling, like the people eating salad in ads always are. No truth in advertising, I guess.

I dropped down against the tree. "What's wrong, grasshopper?"

"Nothing," she said. Too quickly.

"Molly, you know what I do for a living, right?"

"What? Yeah, I - "

"I find things. People. Figure out lies. I'm really good at spotting them. So, let's cut right through the melodrama. Don't get me wrong, normally, I'd play along with the best of them, but I just got a decent zinger in on Morgan, and I'm in a good mood. So come on. What's up?" I cracked my beer open and took a swig. It wasn't Mac's Black, but then, nothing was.

Molly sighed. "There are only two other apprentices here. And neither one will talk to me."

Some fluid went down the wrong tube, as they say, and I choked, coughing. After a minute, the coughs faded to weak laughs. "The other kids won't talk to you? What, are you all 12?"

"Harry."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, kid. Just sounds like everybody's back in high school today. At least they didn't steal your lunch money."

She sighed again, and sounded so much like her mother, Charity – like any mother, really – that I stopped. "They're afraid of me."

"They're not afraid of you."

"Yes, they are. They know what I did. They know I'm your apprentice, and everyone knows what you're capable of."

"I do like to make an impression. Look, kid, today is all about getting to know each other, remembering what we're fighting for. Being human. That's why we're keeping the magic to a minimum. If you want to make friends, forget the apprentices. People that age are always jerks, anyway."

She Spocked an eyebrow at me.

"Why don't you talk to Ramirez?"

She blushed, suddenly and completely. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you think he's hot."

"Oh, now who sounds like he's in high school?"

I picked him out of the crowd, chatting up a few of the younger female Wardens. Virgin or not, the kid had game. "Oh come on. A big chunk of spicy salsa like that? How can you not?"

"Harry!"

But she was smiling. "Just say hello, Molly. No one's talking to you anyway, so, nothing to lose."

"I…"

"What's he going to do? Keep not talking to you? He likes you."

"He never actually said that."

"Oh, I know, men are so hard to read and understand, and never say or do what they mean… oh, wait, no, I'm thinking of something else, some other gender. Help me out here, what am I thinking of?"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" She stood up, took a step, brushed off her bottom, took another step, brushed off again, took a breath, and headed on over.

"That," a voice said behind me, "was very sweet of you."

I started, but didn't quite jump out of my skin. The Captain of the Wardens faded into view right beside me. "Ana. I thought we weren't using magic today. Keeping it real, or whatever the kids are saying these days."

She shrugged. "Captain's prerogative. I was on my way over to tell you to play nice with Donald, when I heard you playing matchmaker."

We both looked up to see Molly and Ramirez talking, close together. Far closer than he had been talking with the other girls. Ana put a hand on my shoulder, which was about as close as we let ourselves appear in public. "You're alright, Dresden," she said.

"I've been called worse."

She smiled and got up, walked off to mingle with the troops. I finished my burger and my beer, let some sweat evaporate, then stood up myself.

My eyes crossed as a sudden and explosive pain ripped through my crotch before I could take more than a step. I cried out in a very un-manly manner, dropping my trash and grabbing the injury as I slumped to my knees, completely undignified.

Through a watery, distorted view of the world, I saw Morgan, about ten feet away, kneeling by the pile of paintball guns. "Sorry about that, Dresden," he said. "Finger must have slipped."

I lifted one hand, covered in paint and shards of the balls that had exploded. Fortunately, none of the mess was actually my balls.

I smiled a tight, bitter smile, and got my breath back. "No problem," I said. Then I pointed at the pile of guns and muttered, "Spectris umbom."

All of the remaining paintballs in each of the guns exploded at once, blowing right out of the hoppers and splattering all over Morgan, knocking him down.

He glared at me, made a slapping motion, and I was tossed in the air, flipped over and landed on my stomach. I pushed myself to my feet quickly, my lips peeling back from my teeth, and got ready to toss some real force around, when both I and Morgan were picked up off our feet and thrown together, a few feet off the ground.

Suddenly, my peeled-back lips were about two inches from Morgan's. I couldn't move my limbs. He looked about as repulsed as I imagine I did. We both managed to move our eyes.

Luccio was standing on the ground, hand raised with a squeezing gesture, stern expression on her face. "Do I have to make you two kiss and make up?" she asked.

Morgan eyed me.

I eyed Morgan.

Slowly, we both said, "No, Captain."

"Good. You'd both do well to remember that I can, if I want to."

"Yes, Captain."

We both dropped to the ground. We lay there on our backs for a moment. "Truce?" I asked.

"Truce," he said gruffly, then he got up and walked away without looking back.

Molly appeared over me. "Harry, you're embarrassing me."

"You sound just like Murphy." I thought about it. "And your mother." I thought some more. "And McCoy."

Ramirez appeared beside her and they each offered me a hand. "Have you noticed the common denominator?" he asked.

They heaved me up. "Yes. The letter M."

"Um, Harry, Carlos offered to… uh… buy me dinner."

I turned to Ramirez. "You asked her out?"

"Of course," he said. "How could I not?"

I looked at Molly. "Point taken."

She blushed again. "Harry."

"What? You're adorable. When?"

"Tonight. In L.A. Meaning, we would have to go soon."

"What? But you'll miss the tug o' war."

"Are you and Morgan going to be on opposing teams?" Carlos asked.

"I think so, yeah."

"Already saw that show. You both lose, and the Captain wins."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Just have her home before ten, or her mother will cause you more pain and humiliation than I just experienced."

"Done." He extended his elbow. Molly grinned and took it.

I shook my head and walked – carefully, legs not touching – back towards my tree. I stood, leaning on it. Luccio approached me again. "You okay?" she asked.

"Been better. Been worse, too. I didn't know you were getting that strong again."

"It took a lot. But, once in a while, you have to remind the kids who's in charge. How's your… target?"

I looked down at the yellow mess on my jeans. "Rather sore. Thanks for asking."

She threw her voice low. "Oh, poor Harry. Maybe I'll have to kiss it better later?"

I looked up sharply. "Why, Captain! I never!"

She smiled a small smile. "But you will, eventually. Tug o' war starts in fifteen minutes. Waddle your way over." Then she walked away. I looked around at all the young wizards, standing in the sunshine, most of them smiling, eating, laughing, talking. Living. I decided that, despite the target practice, today had been a good day.

I adjusted my stance and walked off to find another drink. The pain was fading.


End file.
